In Between Days
by MaySoFarAway
Summary: A collection of prompts I wrote for, taking place between Kid's Movies and its sequel! Rating is for adult content for some, not all, chapters. Darcy and Cap, and lots of other people.
1. Chapter 1

((These would be the random prompts I received between Kid's Movies and it's sequel :D For the sake of the timeline of events, the Smut Week prompts are scattered amongst. If smut's not your thing, never fear, they're not terribly explicit and almost all contain important plot points. Thanks for keeping my gears turning guys :D))

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Prompt: **Olympics **

(or)

The Day We Duct Taped Tony's Mouth Shut

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Tonight was going to be a crash course, Darcy knew, for everyone in the room on some level. The Olympics had begun, she had wikipedia open in her lap, an actual, honest to gods globe on the coffee table, and Tony's mouth was duct taped shut. This had happened fairly early in the ceremonies, when Darcy had started the recorded broadcast. It had been established that she'd be taking advantage of the teaching opportunity tonight, per Steve and Thor's request. Tony, however, still felt the need to keep rambling, constantly, through the first half hour of the choreographed history of Britain, until Pepper slapped a length of the magic stuff over his face.

"Dude, you were -at- the Stadium last night," Darcy reminds him when he scowls at her, "These two weren't, so hush." Of course, Tony Stark hadn't been in London for pleasure. They'd all been lurking at points around the city last night, in case someone in a fancy costume (or not) tried to spoil the fun. Thankfully, even bad guys seemed to be observant of global traditions.

"There are...a lot of little countries where the Soviet Union used to be," Steve is staring at the globe, brow furrowed as he studies each one. Natasha snorts.

"Just wait until you see them all walking."

"Yup, dissolved in 1991," Darcy recites, and Steve nods.

"I read, but wow."

"Okay, Greece!" Pepper pipes up, and Darcy madly types and scrolls while the athletes smile and wave, and poor Bob Costas gets fed the most banal facts through a teleprompter.

"Uh, Uh, Greece! Notable events since the 40s include them telling Germany and Italy to fuck off during the war, consequently getting cut off and starved, a good amount of the Greek Jewish population was carted off but they still wouldn't surrender, liberation end of the war uh, uh, crap they're moving on! Currentlyinarecessionbutthey 'llbeokay!"

Steve busts out laughing, as the room applauds her delivery. Darcy pumps her fist once, as Afghanistan walks in. Captain America nods to the tv as Darcy types, "My recent history lessons have covered it."

"Ah, but have you had falafels?" Darcy raises a brow his way, and he blinks, shaking his head.

"Jarvis, order in falafels." Pepper calls to the ceiling, and Tony gives her the soppiest, happiest, and also most silent gaze. "Our minds are one, baby, I know how you do."

"Albania!" Thor points to the screen, and Darcy's fingers fly, while Steve tries to find it on the globe.

"Near Greece, communist state after World War II, now a Parliamentary Democracy, great food, better folk music!"

"Algeria!"

"Ahhhh, North Africa, Mediterranean sea, declared independence from France in 1962, high Arab population, try our couscous!"

"Antigua!"

"West Indies, gorgeous, love their Cricket and online gambling rings!"

And on the madness went. By the time they got to Germany, Darcy's fingers ached and Tony's mouth was now stuffed with falafel, thus she took a break. It wasn't like she needed Wikipedia for this particular country anyway

"After the war, Germany was split in two," She tells Steve, leaning against his side, "West was pretty all right, East was a military state, basically. Honestly until the wall came down, the people of Germany were pretty screwed over through the 20th century."

"Ah, the Germanic peoples," Thor notes fondly, "We first visited Midgard in their territory! Fine mead, pretty women, Fandral even had a mortal wife from there, for a time. We loved the land."

"Thus, all the mythology," Darcy grins, the parade somewhat forgotten. Thor nods, thoughtfully.

"I understand that not all considered it purely myth during the Great Wars, though." This time it was Steve who answered him, nodding.

"Hitler was looking for things your people might have left behind. Tesseract, for one. Thought your hammer might be hanging around on Earth, too," At that, Thor chuckled.

"He also um, kinda claimed you guys," Darcy tells him with a small wince. "The whole, Master Race thing? Based on Germanic, Nordic looks, like yours," Thor's chiseled jaw dropped, "He spouted being Christian, but really, it just got people...SOME people...on his side about us Christ-killing Jews," Darcy grumbles, "He was gonna wipe out everything different, though. Gay people, the mentally handicapped, black people..."

"Asgard is a very diverse place, though! We took it upon ourselves, despite our own squabbles among our own, to protect the less advanced realms!" Thor protests, angrily, and Darcy nods, sighing.

"It's a case of how people will take something good from the past to justify their own personal vendettas." Clint surprises everyone by adding, eyes on the screen, "I mean come on. Jesus is white, and advertising for skinheads and Mitt Romney these days."

"Always question the man who claims divine inspiration," Tony muses, licking his fingers, "Cause even if some awesome gods from space do decide to have a chat with you, you're hearing through your own messed up ears. Any more left?" Pepper motions to the pile.

"...I never knew that part," Steve notes, as Thor calms down, "At least, not at the time. But hell, we didn't know about the concentration camps then either." Darcy gives him a little smile, patting his hand.

"Now, see, look at all that, though," She nods to the tv, the Nations all gathering in the middle of the stadium, "Call me a sap but that's like, still the most inspiring, lasting sight, even after all the wars, rebellions, invasions and crap we've just covered. Everyone might not like everyone, but this is proof that most of the world can actually come together and agree on something."

"Ugh, sugary-sweet Lewis," Tony pretends to cringe, "I expect better from you."

"Doesn't your woman still have the roll of duct tape?" Darcy asks mildly, wrapping her arms around Steve's waist and snuggling in. Pepper waggles the tape in her hand. Tony shuts up.

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	2. Chapter 2

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**Preferences**

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She's been moving in slowly. He wants her to move in, was the one to ask her, in fact, which Darcy admits was a little surprising. I mean sure, they'd been sleeping together without any apparent 1940s Catholic hangups on Steve's end, but she still thought there might be some feelings about official cohabitation without a ring involved. Which is probably why Darcy's taken her time, just in case some residual guilt kicks in. It never does.

In this aspect, Steve Rogers has no problems with adjusting to the shift in social attitudes. Darcy's pretty sure though that it has little to do with adjusting, and a lot more to do with the fact that he's in love with her. Real, all-encompassing, can't-be-without-her, Old Hollywood-style love. It's a little intimidating, but Darcy Lewis is getting a lot better at trusting those emotions, knowing the source as well as she does by this point.

"You know, I can get you more boxes," Steve notes one evening, as Darcy carts in another load of her things. She's had one packing box, and one only, that she empties and refills once or twice a day between her old apartment one floor down, and his.

"I know, I just..." Darcy bites her lip halfway through a grin, glancing around the place. Her books are overflowing his shelf, and leaking onto the far less sleek, more beat-up antique of hers she'd rescued from a closing children's library. Her clothes now fill up the other half of his closet, the bottom three drawers in his bureau, and her Modcloth throw pillows are girl-ing up his couch and bed. She winces, "..I'm kinda half-expecting you to change your mind once you see how much crap I've got to my name."

"Never," He proclaims, shaking his head, "Place already looks much more homey, I like it."

"I'm pretty amazing at Goodwill-chic, it's true," Darcy sets the box and its current load down on the bed, moving over to the kitchen to grab a slice of pizza. Leaning over to have a look inside, Steve smiles, drawing out a handful of books.

"I keep meaning to read these," He murmurs, looking over her complete Chronicles of Narnia. Darcy grins, pouring herself a hideous looking health smoothie from the blender, in sharp contrast with her greasy pizza dinner. Hey, Natasha had told her that building muscle involved carbs.

"You'd like 'em!"

He sets the books in one of the last empty spaces on the bookshelves, turning back to her possessions while she cringes around one of Tony's suggested brews. There's a few more clothes, of the lacy and intriguing variety, a pile of socks with cartoon characters on them, and then, "...Why do you have a pair of handcuffs?" Darcy chokes.

"...Oh. Right." She swallows, nearly cracking up at the perplexed look on Captain America's face as he inspects the satin-lined, sparkly purple handcuffs, eyes intent on working out this puzzle. Honestly, she'd just tossed them in with her lingerie without thinking, "They uh, were a gift," She replies, wiping her mouth, "I was a bridesmaid in my cousin's wedding last year? We all got traditional gifts at the shower, yanno, nice jewelry a girl could ONLY ever possibly wear in a wedding." Steve lifts up the cuffs, letting them jangle a few times, "Bachelorette party, though, gifts were way more awesome! Her best friend Caddy got a bedazzled flask as the designated drunk bridesmaid, Lara got the pink brass knuckles cause she's in a women's wrestling league..."

"...And you got the handcuffs, because...?" Steve eyes the satin lining for a moment, before something clicks, and his ears start to go red. Darcy winces. Wellp, looks like this conversation is about to happen.

"It. Might have come out on a separate, pre-wedding girls night out, and after a few shots of SoCo & lime, that I was..." She buries her face in another swig of pureed kale, wheat-grass and Greek yogurt, "...Kind of into the kinky stuff."

"Kinky stuff," Steve repeats, fixing her with a steady, hilariously dad-like look, and Darcy has to chuckle again, her own face turning red.

"...I may have a bit of a thing for being held down...or tied up..." She suddenly has to look anywhere except his face. "...A um, Domination kink, sort of...thing." The carpets were REALLY nice.

There's a long pause. And then, as usual, Steve Rogers surprises her by grinning, though he still looks a bit out of his depth, "...Er, not like that godawful something-Grey book Tony found in Clint's gym bag..."

"Oh fuck, no," Darcy's quick to protest, shaking her head and cringing. Though it had been pretty hilarious to listen to Iron Man and Thor further humiliate Hawkeye by taking turns reading aloud from the piece of garbage, the former affecting a pretty good impression of Thor's Shakespearean mannerisms. Until Natasha knocked their heads together. As she recalled, Steve had been both appalled and on the verge of busting a gut. "I'm not like, lifestyle or anything, and even if I was that book is pretty insulting to anyone who is." To his credit, Steve doesn't ask what she means, "No, and you know I'm kind of a wuss with -actual- pain, I um," She clears her throat, "I'm...just...into a little sting with my fun." Her smile is a little wobbly, wondering how he was going to take that.

"You hate being told what to do, though," Is the first thing he points out, wryly. Darcy snorts, a bit relieved, setting down her sludge and shaking her head.

"That, that's in real life, I can't stand not being kinda in control of things," She clarifies, biting her lip and looking at him again from under her hair, "...I like being told what to do in bed." The man nods, slowly, setting the cuffs on the bedside table thoughtfully.

"So ah," He reaches up, running a hand through his hair, "Why haven't you...said anything?" Of course, one of his first questions would pertain to her happiness. Dating one of the good guys, man, it never got old. Darcy slips around the kitchen counter and crosses the apartment to the bed, taking both his hands, embarrassment fading by the moment.

"Cause it's been good. REAL good," She tells him earnestly, tugging him toward her, and it's true. They've been pretty conventional in the sack, if one can call sex with a superhero conventional. Darcy has no complaints. "It's just, yanno, something I like for fun now and then. A sometimes food. The cheesecake of sex!" She lights upon the analogy, and Steve snorts, cracking up a little. "...And really, it's not like it's happened all that often before!" He already knows about her ex boy-friends at this point (there have been 5 that counted, only three who got to naked-town, and only two of them had any sort of steady sex drive), and he nods, slowly, laughter fading. "Seriously, handsome, I haven't been missing a damn thing."

"Well good," He answers softly, dipping his head to kiss her full lips, smacking his own as he pulls back, tasting smoothie with a grin. "...Course, this doesn't mean I can't try and show you a fun time. Some...cheesecake." Darcy arches a brow, intrigued.

"You sure, Cap? I mean, you're always so careful with your girl," She winks, only teasing him a little. You really couldn't blame a man for being a little paranoid, after having seen his girlfriend torn to pieces and stitched back together. Presently, Steve just growls a little, splaying a hand over her scarred middle.

"I know you're tougher than you look," He murmurs, kissing her again. "And you're making me imagine a lot of things right now..." Darcy's grin goes positively wicked.

"Looks like we have our next round of classes then, Cap..."

This would be interesting.

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	3. Chapter 3

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Smut Prompt:** Melt**

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It started with one of their many candles

She'd been flicking her fingers through it, over and over, as they sat down to an actual, real meal. Alright, so it had been ordered in. But from a fancy place that people usually called ahead for a seat at, with silk tablecloths and water they charged you for, as opposed to their usual greasy affairs from Bennicio's Pizza Stop. Steve might have taken Darcy to the five star restaurant in person, in fact he had a couple of times in the past, but tonight neither of them really relished the thought of the flashbulbs that followed.

They'd known each other six months, today. Other couples might count their relationship as starting on the first date, but for Steve, it had started the day he first met her, and he'd always told Darcy this. That, she loved about him. Six-month anniversaries, however, she had a problem with, or so she had claimed.

"For one," She'd said, "It totally tries to defy semantics. Anniversary means, like, yearly. People who celebrate so-called 'month-a-versaries' are just present-whores and should be beaten with their own purses."

Steve wasn't dumb, though. The fact that she had rambled about it for a little -too- long was a tip-off, unless he was mistaken, which, according to Jane, Betty, AND Pepper, he wasn't. It told him that yes, she thought it was stupid. But that she'd also always kind of wanted someone to make that much of a lame fuss over her.

And so here they were, finishing a gourmet meal in the privacy of their own apartment, and Darcy was grinning, "You're getting to know me way too well, Rogers," She murmured in that sultry, half-lidded way she got after exactly two glasses of wine, no more, no less. Steve gave a triumphant smile and a lift of his glass, pausing as he watched her fingers moving through the flickering flame ever more slowly, eyes meeting his steadily.

She'd told him that going with impulse was good. With a sharp intake of breath and a pretty useless gulp of his wine, Steve was suddenly getting an...impulse.

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The handcuffs are threaded through one of the rungs in his headboard, Darcy's wrists crossed above her head, a little grin on her lips. He's flipped her over onto her stomach because the thought of doing this while looking at the -actual- scars all over her middle would kind of make him feel horrible. Darcy so doesn't mind, wriggling a little in anticipation, her fingers flexing in their shackles.

Steve takes his time, though, as he does with most tasks he wants to get just right. His hands smooth over her exposed flesh slowly, the touch feather-light, gently brushing her hair over her shoulder, sliding down, pressing a kiss to the small of her back. He's been over the map of her pale flesh plenty by now, but not like this, uninterrupted, with her struggling just a little bit out of blissful frustration.

"You're gorgeous," He murmurs against her inner thigh, breath hot on her skin, and she groans.

"And you're a tease," She smirks, handcuffs jangling. Steve grins against her, leaving the lightest of kisses behind before rising, reaching toward the bedside table and the candle flickering there. Darcy watches him over her shoulder, lips parted slightly in anticipation as he looks her in the eye, his hair falling in his face just a little bit. The flame comes to hover over her skin, and she writhes again, "Steve..."

The candle tilts in his hand, a tiny river of hot wax falling onto her flesh for half a moment. A gasp leaves her lips, eyes shutting, and Steve watches her, fascinated that it's the same sound she makes when he's inside of her. It has him hard already, but that can definitely wait. He wants to see what other sounds she'll make.

"Too much?" He asks in a whisper, leaning down and kissing her neck while holding the candle high, the slightest bit of nerves in his voice. Darcy shakes her head, grinning, bottom lip pressed hard under her teeth.

"More," She whispers, and he complies, sitting back and tilting the candle over again. Her back arches in response and she lets out a long groan, her hips rocking a little against the sheets. Steve's grin widens, not pausing, turning the candle over a few times in his hand and then dripping a line of hot wax down her spine. "Mmph," she whimpers, the cooled wax cracking. He slips his free hand between her legs, feeling the wetness there already, and his throat goes dry. "Please.."

"Not yet," He surprises himself by actually growling in her ear, biting it gently, though he doesn't remove his hand. Her eyes slip shut again, hands twitching in her cuffs. Normally, right about now she'd be grabbing him, digging her nails into his shoulders and dragging him into kisses, into her pussy, and the fact that she can't has them both panting for air. As it is, Darcy arches her back again, pressing herself against his hand. The candle moves, dripping wax in another long path down her back, over the swell of her ass.

She lets out a sharp hiss of pleasure, and his hand moves over her sex, finding that one spot he's become very familiar with by now, and stroking the tight bundle of nerves with two nimble fingers. "You," Darcy swallows, whimpering as more hot wax drips onto her skin, "Are evil."

"Actually Miss Lewis," He replies in a whispered version of his most polite voice, "I'm one of the good guys." She lets out a gasping little laugh, rocking against his hand as he moves to drip wax onto the other cheek. His fingers move just as she's getting into the rhythm, away from her clit and slipping inside, just barely, just enough to have her growling in frustration.

"I beg...to...differ..." Her voice dissolves into a low moan as the hot wax hits her flesh again, a drizzle up the back of her thighs. Despite knowing how useless it is, Darcy struggles against the binds yet again, tossing her head. It's a sight that's doing all sorts of strange and pleasant things to him, a side of the Cap he wasn't aware of. She clearly likes the short bites of pain, the cooling that follows, and watching her at his mercy is undoing his resolve. He'd meant to hold out for longer but Captain America is still, honestly, only a man. A man whose girlfriend is writhing naked in handcuffs.

"Damnit," He grins, setting the candle back in its holder on the night table, and Darcy's own smile goes wide as she eyes him over her shoulder, spreading her legs just before he grabs her hips with both hands. "Thought I was in control here?" He murmurs, pushing inside of her, drawing out a deep cry of relief and pleasure from his girl.

"Keep telling yourself that, handsome," She gasps back at him, grinning, as he braces himself with a hand on the headboard and gives her what she wants.


	4. Chapter 4

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Prompt: Sunflowers

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She has no idea how Steve found out her favorite flower...all right, so maybe given a little thought, the obvious culprit would be Jane. Still, it puts a wide smile on Darcy's face when she comes back up to their apartment, after a morning at medical, to find a tall vase filled with sunflowers brightening up the table. Darcy pushes off her coat, leaning over to bury her face in the big yellow blossoms, a sigh leaving her lips.

He'd known something was bothering her last night. He'd also known, from the way she put on a smile, that she wasn't going to talk about it, not yet. It was the very specific smile, soft and warm and yet not really reaching her eyes. It communicated that Darcy wasn't telling because she was trying to spare both of their feelings. Steve knew there were only a few things that she could get depressed over that would also give him a huge guilt trip, and so he'd learned to let her take her time figuring out how to talk about it. Darcy was grateful.

It had started when she went grocery shopping the previous morning. It was such an automatic task, neither of them did much cooking and as such, the cart was generally full of the same few things every week. Steve's favorite frozen pizzas, Darcy's shampoo, and stuff to make protein shakes for both of them. She hadn't even realized she was heading down a certain aisle until she was facing the wall of tampons, and then blinked.

"Oh right," She said out-loud, shaking her head. I mean, ten years of habit were hard to break, but Darcy still wondered how she'd forgotten that she'd never have another period again. And that thought had suddenly given her a wave of nausea, bracing herself against the stocked shelves. It had been a few months by now, but still, the realization would rear it's head, fresh and deeper than the last time. She'd left the grocery store as quickly as she could, distant and thoughtful for the rest of the evening.

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"It's just. Messed up to eve think about it," Darcy murmurs to Jane, as the two of them sip their coffee at Darcy's desk, the vase of the sunflowers between them. "I'm barely twenty-one, you know? And I'm thinking about this."

"Well, you can still be a mother someday," Jane points out, glancing around to make sure the boys were still distracted by her shiny new equations on the white board, "I thought they were able to save some of your eggs after the attack?" Darcy nods, biting her lip.

"S'just it, I went down to medical today? You know they can only guarantee frozen eggs for ten years?" She licks her lips, "And even then, women usually take, like, oodles of hormones before they freeze 'em, so they have plenty. I just survived a freak accident and had them emergency iced, so, lower odds there." She winces, rubbing her temples, "I always figured I'd start -thinking- about kids at like, thirty, and then only if I had a guy. Now I'm 21, I'm gonna hafta START thinking about kids at at least 28 to get the ball rolling, and I work for fuckin' SHIELD, where I could die on any day."

"You can always adopt, hun, it's still -your- time-table, think about stuff like kids when it's -your- time, don't feel pressured just because it's your genetics with the expiration date," Jane tells her firmly. Darcy sighs, shutting her eyes.

"...See, if I were single? I'd totally agree. Hell I'd probably just chock it up to bum luck and be glad I never have to haul around someone in my body for nine months, I wouldn't even bother learning about how surrogacy works, just be that happy eccentric 40 year old single mom with a Chinese daughter..."

"...But?" Jane smirked, getting a better idea as to where this was going.

"...But I'm -not- single," She swallows, reaching out to rub one of the sunflower petals between her fingers, "...Fuck, but it is still my deal. Isn't it? I don't know," Darcy groans, "The man has no family. He'd love any kid, but the idea of one that's part of him...UGH! I'm twenty-one and I've been dating him for barely six months, what is that thought, why am I having these thoughts?"

"You've still got time. Something tells me Steve won't be getting bored any time soon," Jane continues for her, and Darcy nods, biting her lip again. "...So, why is all this so bad?"

"It's changing my whole head around!" Darcy blurts out, "What if this...this is it, Jane? What if this is the -real deal-, and we get married someday, and five years from now we want kids, and it started when I was barely into my twenties?!"

"...My question stands," Jane sighs, "I'm in love with a man who's immortal, Darcy. I'm going to get old and die before he gets his first gray hair. But, so what? Who says my future without him was going to be so great? I mean, look where we work. Look at what our -lives- are right now!"

"Yeah..." Darcy looks around at the labs. It's true, on her own plans, she'd be eating ramen and getting by on a major she was good at, but really didn't have any passion for. She'd be dating scrawny college guys who'd rather be banging her roommate (the story of her life), and yes, she'd be a lot safer. Maybe. It wasn't like the people of Manhattan had been particularly safe back in May, though.

"So everything happened sooner than you thought it would," Jane sums up, "Met the perfect guy, find yourself actually kind of wanting to have his kid someday in the future, you're currently doing work that's changing the world, and you get to travel all over the place, with Superheroes." Jane's grin goes wide, "...What exactly did you think was going to happen before you were thirty that was -more- exciting than that?"

"...Well, I did think I'd have a lipstick-lesbian phase." Is all Darcy can come up with. Jane leans over, kissing her cheek.

"There you go. Your 20s are now complete."

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He finds her that afternoon, sitting cross-legged on the roof. It's cold up there already, the wind whipping as usual, and she's in her old hat, gloves and coat, looking more like the kid who was Jane Foster's intern in New Mexico than a tried SHIELD agent. Steve settles in next to her, smiling a bit when he sees the sunflower in her hands, only a little droopy around the leaves.

"Glad you found 'em," He says, wrapping an arm around her. Darcy nuzzles his shoulder, which is fuzzy with the old classic sweater he's thrown on. She doesn't know how he keeps managing to find clothes that look like he's just stepped out of his own time, in the best vintage-y way, but he does, and she likes it. It's cozy. "...You all right, sweetheart?"

"Yeah," Darcy smirks, "Just...kinda had a couple days of readjusting to my weird-ass life, if that makes sense."

"...Darcy, look who you're talking to." Steve replies, flatly, and she laughs, shrugging.

"Oi, yeah, got me there Rogers," She sighs, "I've just been...well, a product of my own times," She decides, "I'm not out of college yet and I'm here, working, and there's you...In case you haven't noticed Cap, I'm really bad at handling good things when they come my way." Steven chuckles, and she nudges him, "Always pretty sure it's a trap, Akbar-level."

"I guess I've kinda been that way since I thawed out as well," He allows, nodding, and then looking down at her. "...That's all, though? Just...adjusting?" Darcy feels her face warming, looking down at her lap. Now's not the time for specifics, though. Or maybe it is, but she's pretty sure she can't handle that conversation yet, all the gory details about her somewhat removed biological worries. So instead she bites her lip, thinking for a moment, before answering.

"This is like, cosmic, yeah?" She starts, and he blinks, and she wonders why she can be oh so clever when they're getting up to shenanigans, but when it's time for an actual talk, she forgets how to words. "I mean. I know we're in love, and all, but. It's kinda," She gulps, "...Be-all, end-all, 'til we're old and gray, or super-villains destroy the Earth, that sort of thing." A grin spreads over his lips, slowly.

"...Well for one, no super-villain will destroy the Earth, it's why we're all here," He tilts his head, looking a little red around the ears himself, "And uh, yeah, I was kinda hoping so. I don't really go into anything half-way." He reaches over with the arm not around her shoulders, tucking her hair behind her ear and under her cap, "Kinda hoping to marry you someday. I mean...if you can put up with me and all my stupid brooding."

"You put up with me and all my stupid everything," Darcy grins, looking down at the flower again, "...I'm kinda younger than you, you know, even without the icy time-lapse."

"And I'm stunted as far as life-experiences go, so we're fine," He maintains, and she laughs again. "So...someday."

"Someday," Darcy agrees, leaning against him happily. So, her life schedule had been moved up a few years. There were a lot worse things that could happen to a girl.


	5. Chapter 5

Prompts: **Faith**

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Leaving the labs early was generally followed by hitting the gym early these days, but this particular Friday afternoon found Darcy pulling on her coat and leaving Stark Tower. A girl didn't have to go far in this city to find a respectable Kosher grocery and bakery, though she did take her time choosing her two loaves, a massive fresh fish to do her mother proud, and then spent an hour scouring shelves for her grandmother's favorite wine. That was the great thing about New York, it had been full of picky Jews for ages.

When she returned to the apartment she now shared with Captain America it was still inhabited only by Volstagg-the-mutt, greeting her from his spot on the bed with a fiercely wagging stump of a tail. "Jarvis, where's Steve?" Darcy asked of the air, scruffing the dog behind the ears.

"Captain Rogers is in the gym, Miss. Lewis."

"Right-o." Darcy saluted, moving into the kitchen area of their studio-style dig. She had never been much of a cook, it was true, but for this particular meal, well, she'd watched her grandmother and mother prepare it far too many times to count. While the soup simmered and the olives and tomatoes swam in oil, Darcy went digging through one of the shoe boxes in Steve's...well, her and Steve's...closet, muttering to herself over how disorganized she was.

"I smell food. That can't be right." Steve's voice from the door startles her, and Darcy looks up, grinning wide.

"I'm not -totally- useless in the kitchen," She protests, rising, candlesticks in her hands, veil draped over her arm. Steve chuckles, towel around his neck, hair wet from the gym showers, "Just mostly."

"We'll see. What's the occasion?" He asks, moving toward her to kiss her forehead. Darcy bites her lip, suddenly feeling a little shy about all of this.

"It's um, Shabbat meal," She replies, fiddling with her candles, "Sabbath meal, if you like. I ah...hope it's okay, I know you're not Jewish..."

"I'm not really anything," Steve shrugs, kissing her again, "Catholic officially, and I still believe in God despite Thor's best efforts, but I was never very observant...I didn't know you were though," He glances at the kitchen, "Being observant smells delicious."

Darcy laughs, shaking her head and moving to the table, setting the candlesticks side by side before her usual chair, "I've been a bad Jew since leaving for college, guilty," She admits, turning, biting her lip again, "It's um, kind of a special week though. My grandmother...grandmere...her birthday's this week. While she was alive we always had a really special meal on the following Shabbat. Mom and I kept it up after she died, six years ago." Darcy licks her lips, looking up at him, "...SHIELD kinda keeps me away from the family more than I'd even choose to be, so..I'm a little homesick today, too."

Steve pulls her in for a hug, resting his chin on her head. "...So let's eat." Darcy's face lights up with her smile.

"...Put on something shiny first."

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As the sun dips low over New York City, Darcy moves around the apartment, lighting candles on tables and counters, before bringing the food to the table. Seated across from her, Steve grins, both in anticipation of experiencing her culinary efforts, and because seeing her so serious and intent on something that isn't work is a look he's never seen on her. Darcy chances a look at him...apparently he thinks it's a good look. She sticks her tongue out at him once, before placing her pale blue veil to rest on her long hair.

"Jarvis, all the lights please," She murmurs, and the apartment goes dark except for the candles and the setting sun through the windows. After a few quiet moments, Darcy's face goes calm, striking a match and lighting the two Shabbat candles in front of her, set in the rather ornate, old silver candlesticks. She pours two goblets of the wine next, and sets the two loaves of bread in front of her, before beginning the prayers.

Darcy Lewis can't sing on a good day. But somehow, as her hands motion over the candles and the wine, and then come up to cover her face, the sung Sabbath prayers sound beautiful. When she's done, she glances at Steve shyly, but he only shakes his head, grinning as she fills his plate, and hands him his wine.

"You know that better than most Catholics I knew could recite Mass," He notes, and she grins, both of their faces gold and flickering in the candle light.

"That's because they were always sung by a gorgeous woman in my house," She winks, sitting, pushing her head covering back from her face a little, watching him through the glow as he digs into her cooking.

"...Why do we order so much pizza?"

Darcy busts out laughing, tossing her head, "Really babe, it's only good and proper Sabbath and Passover fare I can pull off. And even then, there's a reason I didn't make the bread myself," They're silent for a bit as they eat, Steve humming his appreciation. Darcy's still pretty sure he'd enjoy anything food-shaped, but it gives her some proud tingles anyway.

"Those candlesticks are pretty," He points out at length, and she nods.

"They were hers. Grandmere's, that is," Darcy smiles, "Her older brother lived in Poland, they were a gift from him to her mother before...well, before," She shrugs, "Her family left France for America when she was ten, but he wasn't so lucky. She treasured 'em...and then left them to me, for some reason." Darcy smirks, but Steve's face is serious for a moment.

"I still can't...I mean, it was happening and we didn't have a clue..."

"Ah, ah," Darcy lifts a hand to stop him, smiling a little, "It's forbidden to talk about unpleasant things over Sabbath," She informs him, fondly, and Steve manages a smile back.

"I'm a professional at guilt, though, as you like to remind me often," He replies, and Darcy lifts her wine to him.

"Which is why this observance is perfect to include you in. Dwell on happy things!" She proclaims, and their glasses clink together, "Like Gran. She had the biggest crush on you when she came over, by the by."

And that's the story of how Steve Rogers snorted Shabbat wine all over his second-best button-up shirt.

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	6. Chapter 6

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Smut Prompt:** Heels**

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"I got my red dress on tonight  
Dancing in the dark in the pale moonlight  
Got my hair up real big beauty queen style  
High heels off, I'm feeling alive..."

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The first time Darcy gets to experience one of the legendary, star-studded Tony Stark parties is on Halloween night, and they're in Malibu. As per usual, it's not strictly pleasure that has all the Avengers out at Tony's California home, though that's how it's supposed to look to the public. They've actually been camped out there for a week now, monitoring a situation involving a guy with a weird accent, an energy plan suspiciously similar to Stark Industries' and involving tech similar to Jane's wormhole generator, and, as Tony puts it, 'Too many doctorates to NOT be evil'.

Bruce pointed out that Tony himself only had one less than Dr. Heimer. Tony had told Bruce to stop making sounds with his face.

All had been calm enough, though, so of course Tony (on Fury's prompting, which was surprising, and maybe made things feel less like Iron Man was just being a jealous butt) had to rev things up by having Pepper plan a party. A big one, with costumes, famous people, and to invite Heimer. And maybe a few other superheroes too, while she was at it. Because costumed heroes in costumes? This could only end well.

"This isn't really a costume, you know," Steve feels the need to point out to Darcy for the tenth time, as he buttons up the splendid, exact recreation of his dress uniform the Army totally gave him in thanks upon his waking up. From her spot in their guest room bathroom, busily trying to pull off arguably one of history's most difficult hairstyles, Darcy just giggles.

"I know handsome, but for one," She says, "It looks amazing on you...hell, most things do, but seriously...uniform. For two, you didn't want to dress up as Ice Man to Tony's Maverick," She swears she hears him grumbling, also for the tenth time, about how he'd not be caught dead dressed up in an Air Force jumpsuit, and lets it slide, "And three, it'll go -awesome- with my getup."

"Do I get to know what you're wearing yet?" He tries to peek around the door, only to have it shut in his face.

"It's a surprise! And I'm almost done!"

"You said that half an hour ago!"

"This time I mean it!" Darcy slides in the last bobby pin, inspecting her hair from every angle before deciding this was as good as it was gonna get. The dress took barely a minute to pull up over her garters and old-fashioned strapless bra, and stepping into the shoes Pepper had loaned her gave her a good five inches in height. "...All right, don't laugh, I watched at least eighty youtube tutorials before attempting this hair and I'm proud, damnit."

"What kind of ha-..." Steve just stares as she leaves the bathroom, words dying in his throat, and Darcy almost bites her lip, before remembering that she's got three layers of bright red lipstick on. Cap, meanwhile, is both clearly turned on and clearly somewhat mind-boggled, at the sight of her all done up like a war-time pinup."...How did you...?"

"You pressed the picture between the pages of an old sketchbook, hun," She winks, the false eyelashes feeling only a little weird. "And don't tell me you only carried a dark-haired Vargas pinup around during the war because it made for a good body reference." His eyes wander from the tops of her two perfect victory rolls, to the ridiculously high heels, and the bright red, off-the-shoulder recreation party dress and sheer black stockings in between.

"...The dress isn't quite as see-through as the painting," He finally speaks, a slow, devious grin on his lips.

"You wouldn't let me leave the room if it was," Darcy manages a spin in the shoes, the frills around her shoulders and knees wafting, before she tilts forward, a little bit closer to his lips now, reaching for his tie and not having to pull him down quite so far for a deep, slow kiss.

"...Do we have to go to the party?" He asks in a murmur, hands going straight for her hips, and this time she does bite her lip, reaching up with a lace-gloved hand to wipe the red smudges off of his mouth.

"Mmmhmmmm, I didn't spend all that time on this hair just to have it ruined five minutes later on Tony Stark's guestroom pillows," She winks, straightening his tie, and then looking him over herself for the first time, brows lifting, "...I mean, we need to be down there for at -least- half an hour, to justify how hot we look."

Steve chuckles, and then gives her a dramatic sigh of defeat, motioning for her to lead the way out. Darcy milks it for all its worth, swaying her hips and tossing her curled, glossy hair as she goes. "...Darcy, I love you." She can practically feel his eyes, glued somewhere between her ass and her sparkly, fuck-me heels.

"I know, sweetie."

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The party's been going for a little while by the time they make it downstairs, bodies filling the room, the vast majority of them in costume. For a short bit, Darcy is distracted from her ridiculously attractive boyfriend as she tries to see what everyone's pulled off for the evening. Natasha looks unamused in a corner, having only added a lace mask and kitty ears to her usual black cat suit, and even that only after a lot of negotiating between her and Clint. But it works, especially with him as Batman, scowling right next to her.

In the center of the room Pepper is resplendent as an only slightly slutty Marie Antoinette, Thor and Jane are somewhere as Fred and Velma, Bruce opted out of the evening (Steve had grumbled about wanting a rage-y excuse as well), and most of the other guests seemed to be comprised of a few celebrities, some science-y people Darcy recognizes, plus a plethora of the expected socialites in barely-there getups and/or Jersey Shore style spiked hair.

"...Is that Agent Hill?" Steve was suddenly asking, as they plucked up glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. Darcy glanced the way he pointed, her jaw dropping.

"...In a slutty pumpkin costume," She grinned wide, shaking her head.

"She doesn't look happy..."

"Probably lost a bet with Fury," Darcy giggles, leaning over and pressing her face into Steve's sleeve. He looks down, fondly, poking one of the rolls in her hair. Half the room had looked up when they entered, but weirdly enough, as usual, their own little bubble had them immune.

"You guys look -great-!" Pepper was exclaiming as she wandered over, in consummate hostess-mode, adjusting her wig, "The hair come out perfect, Darcy,"

"Still don't understand why you're not my Ice Man right now," Tony quipped from behind a pair of Aviators, flight helmet under one arm, "I should have bugged you earlier. Could have invited Xavier's kids earlier, before they decided to throw their own party on the East Coast. I could have had an -actual- Ice Man, Captain."

"Something tells me you'll get over it," Steve smirks.

"Logan made it, at any rate," Pepper notes happily, nodding toward the bar, where Wolverine-as-Mad Max was chatting with some other guy in a Han Solo costume,"Just keep him away from Natasha, they fight like cats. No pun intended."

"Who's that he's talking to?" Darcy frowns, peering closely at the Han Solo for a moment before her jaw drops yet again, and then she looks back at Steve, and then back to the bar.

"Hmm?" Tony follows her gaze, "Oh that's Johnny Sto-...hoh-lee shit," He whips off his shades, blinking a few times, and then looking back at Steve as well, who's also squinting at the bar, "...Cap you're not related to the Human Torch, are you? I'm pretty sure I would have found that out when I was hacking everyone's records."

"Not uh, that I know of..." Steve blinks, and the two superheroes eye each other from across the room for a half-second, in complete befuddlement, before both deciding that nope, too weird, and looking elsewhere. Darcy giggles.

"This is gonna be a good night..."

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His eyes are glued to her all evening, and the notion sends a shiver down Darcy's spine as she moves through the crowd, saying hello to people, chatting with Natasha, taking a couple of turns on the dance floor with Thor. Steve isn't especially social, at all really, but at least since they'd gotten together he'd become much more comfortable around people, if not outgoing, still preferring to see parties and get-togethers as a spectator's sport.

And so he's been on the margins of the room, chatting with Pepper or Clint when they work their way around the room, suffering the occasional half-drunk fangirl asking him to sign a napkin and take a cell phone picture, and trying every single appetizer Darcy brings up to him. She loves watching other people enjoy something she's enjoyed, her eyes lighting up every time he sinks his teeth into a macaroon or plantain cake, and declares it delicious. And then she was swaying back into the crowd again, giggling with Jane, or accepting another compliment on her hair, all in those killer heels.

Steve had never been one to especially notice a girl's footwear, but those spangly, silver things are singular. Her calves are much stronger, lean and shapely now since she's become an honest-to-god Agent, and if anything her rear end has gotten rounder and higher, and the shoes make it all more pronounced. And she's in that dress, with that hair, and there might be an endless supply of tan, skinny blondes in skimpy costumes in the room, but Darcy Lewis is the only girl getting consistent double-takes.

And it's driving him slowly, thoroughly crazy, in all the best ways.

It's when she's half-way through a slow-dance with Logan, who gets a good-natured slap from her for trying to cop a feel of her butt, that Steve decides he's tired of being a wallflower.

"Mind if I cut in?" Logan only looks him up and down for a beat, before dipping his head,

"All yours, Cap," He grins, "Lewis, you ever get tired of this fossil..."

"I'll call and ask you for Remy's number," Darcy shoots back, winking, wrapping her arms around Steve's neck. Wolverine wanders off laughing, long and loud. She looks up at her fella from under those long, thick lashes, smiling wide and smelling like champagne and some grapefruity perfume she's started wearing, "Mmm, jealous Cap?"

"Maybe a little," He grins, hands sliding low on her back, "Mostly I'm just really, really distracted by that dress...those shoes..."

"..This tie," Darcy gives it a tug, biting her lip, "Come on, good-lookin'." She takes his hand, pulling him off the dance floor and toward the nearest doorway. Steve decides that maybe he really does like parties.

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Darcy's not sure what room they're in, but it's dark, empty, and the door locks, that's enough for her. It actually looks like a small study, with a desk and large windows that look out over the pool, glowing blue in the darkness. She giggles as Steve lifts her up to sit at the edge of the desk, pushing up her bright red skirts, hands stopping and stroking appreciatively over her garters. She knew those were a good choice.

"Oh you just love that this is gonna happen on Tony's desk, don't you," She breathes, grinning, and oh god he's getting on his knees in front of her, hands on her hips, pulling her closer to the edge.

"It might be the cherry on top," He admits, kissing the inside of her left thigh just over the top of one stocking, and Darcy giggles, sighing, silently thankful she'd gone without underwear tonight. Purely for panty-line reasons, obviously. Not because she'd been hoping for some fully-clothed relations in a dark corner somewhere, not at all.

Steve has been a quick study in all things, Darcy discovered this early in their debauchery. After a little basic knowledge and innuendo, the man paid attention to what worked, where to touch, and he remembered very, very well what would make her squirm. His breath is warm on her cunt, and Darcy slips her legs over his shoulders, heels digging into his back a bit.

"So I take it you," She gasps, hands in his hair as his tongue just barely teases at her a few times, before parting her lips, "...Liked the costume..."

"Mhmm," He hums against her, and really, talking is overrated, Darcy decides, gripping his hair harder as that tongue of his goes to work. Between the locale, the uniform, and the way he's relentlessly licking, sucking, one finger still stroking under a garter strap like she's a Christmas present, it isn't long at all before Darcy's rocking against his mouth, muffling her own shout with a gloves hand to the mouth as she comes, hard and fast.

"Oh Captain," She breathes, grinning, and he laughs as she drags him up for a kiss, tasting herself on his lips. Her hands go to his belt and pants with lightening speed, while his hand is on her ankle now, stroking the little strap on her shoe. The man likes straps. Darcy tucks this observation away for later, content with the way he gasps when she pulls him into her by wrapping her legs around his waist, rocking her hips to take his cock in slowly.

It can't stay slow for long, of course, not with the way things are between them, after a night of teasing and champagne and sensory overload. Darcy clutches at him, nails digging into his skin through his uniform, still overwhelmed in moments like this that he's -hers-, all hers, and no one else's. He's the same tonight, burying a hand in the back of her hair (away from the rolls, god she loves him) as he fucks her on Tony's desk, whispering the most gorgeous nonsense into her ear just before he comes, stuttering and gasping and grinning.

She loves that part best of all, and it never goes away, that ridiculous, boyish grin he gets on his face right after he finishes. Darcy tugs him back into her arms, holding him tightly as she rocks against him a few more times, pressing kisses against his neck before nuzzling a little, "Love you," She whispers, and he squeezes her tighter, saying it right back.

And then, despite not actually having a throat, Jarvis clears his somewhere above them, and they both freeze.

"I beg pardon, but Director Fury called for an assembly in Mr. Stark's lab five minutes ago," Darcy groans, clutching Steve tighter, but the AI goes on, "Agents Hill, Lewis and Dr. Selvig have also been summoned." She looks up, blinking, and Steve blinks right back.

"...Holy crap, I get to assemble!"

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	7. Chapter 7

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Smut Prompt:** Mission**

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They've been staking out Heimer's bunker for over a week now. A square, impenetrable brick in the middle of the desert, he's already decimated a military outpost with some sort of weapon based on traces of tech that match the wormhole generator's. The US government isn't happy, SHIELD isn't happy, and pretty much everyone on the team trying to take the man out aren't happy.

Jane and Erik return to New York, keeping an eye on the readings coming off of the Foster Generator. Betty and Darcy, meanwhile, are assigned to work with the Avengers, which is still kind of boggling Darcy's mind.

"Dr. Banner raves about your attention to detail, that you're the one who originally briefed Dr. Ross on the tech," Fury had told her at the meeting in Tony Stark's Malibu lab. And it's true, Darcy's a sharp girl but for the social sciences, history, you know...the things she went to school for. However she's also excellent with data and cataloging, problem solving, and physics as explained by Jane have sunk into her head just fine. Basically, while she might never get a wormhole named after her, Darcy has become an awesome assistant. "The only other person who's memorized the stats on Jane's machine as thoroughly as Doctor Foster herself and Erik Selvig, is you, Lewis, and we need the authority safe in New York."

"While you send the oompa-loompa who can actually fight and the one who can translate all the data she's stored in her head into the fray, got it."

Betty doesn't just do the practical field science though, as they're toughing it out in some remote desert mountains. Bruce has been changing back and forth a lot in the last few days, always ready for the moment when they get the intel they're there for, and need to smash into the bunker. And while he's got a much better handle on 'The Other Guy' (when he chooses to let him out himself), no one can guide him back to being Bruce quite like Betty can.

Currently Dr. Banner is curled up on his side on their bedroll, Betty sitting next to him, laptop open as she types with one hand and rubs his back with the other. Natasha, Thor and Clint have the perimeter, and Darcy is leaving the space cornered off by boxes at the far end of one of the caves, shaking out her wet hair. "Bucket of hot water is all yours, Iron Man," She tells Tony, who's already retracting his suit.

"Ugh, why aren't we on the heli-carrier for this mission? Please, someone remind me again." He grumbles, peeling off his sweat-stained t-shirt as he heads for the boxes. "Running water. Real showers. Fresh food."

"And a nice big target for the nice big gun in that bunker," Betty's mild voice reminds him, eyes not leaving her computer screen. "We had better readings on it from down here too."

"Curse your infernal logic!"

Darcy just chuckles, zipping her tight, black and grey, SHIELD issue suit all the way up to her chin against the cold desert night, checking the gun at her hip. The uniform is definitely one of the best parts about this job, having been outfitted once she'd proven her ability to fight things. She might not look as deadly in a catsuit as Nat or Agent Hill, maybe, still more like a scientist who can probably handle her gun. But the leather and the boots do make Darcy feel like a bad-ass.

Steve enjoys it too. However, given their cramped quarters of the last few days, he hasn't gotten to enjoy it -quite- as thoroughly as he'd maybe like to.

After a little wandering, she finds him perched by one of the more removed caves making up their perimeter. It's not his watch, but Darcy's learned that Steve never really shuts off while he's on a mission, unless he absolutely needs sleep, or to eat. Or to bathe, as he'd done before her, though his uniform is still sandy and scorched, like everyone's. Darcy climbs up to perch next to him on the large rock just outside the cave's mouth, nudging him a little.

"There are three people circling our locale, Steve, I think it's safe for you to catch a few hours' shut-eye," She tries, but Cap shakes his head, though he does push his cowl off and wrap an arm around her.

"I wouldn't be able to. Not yet. I got sleep two days ago anyway, I'm good," He smirks, and Darcy sighs, tossing her damp hair.

"You should still try and relax a little, anyway." She wraps her arms around his waist, "You're wound up tight under all that red white and blue, babe. Was like sleeping next to a slinky last night."

"What's that line Clint always uses? Constant Vigilance," He maintains, and Darcy rolls her eyes. He does pause though, she notes, to press his face to her hair. "...Where did you find shampoo?"

"I'm a girl, Steve," She murmurs, grinning, "Always grab the overnight kit, even when assembling."

"I like it," He inhales again, and Darcy bites her lip, having a sudden notion. Granted, who knew how he'd react, he was a different beast out in the field. But damnit, nothing was happening, they hadn't had sex in a week, and they were alone in the dark.

"Come'on," She slides out of his grip, taking his hand and pulling him along after her, into the cave. Steve follows with a raised brow, until she stops just outside the pool of light the full moon casts on the cave floor.

"Darcy what..." She presses a finger to his lips, easing him back against the stone wall.

"Shh, who knows where Clint is perched right now," She grins, and then drops to her knees in front of him.

"We can't..." But his protesting is terribly weak, which is somewhat amusing given his size and strength. Darcy grins, working on the belt of his uniform, the wind whispering around the rocks outside.

"We definitely can," Darcy assures him, tugging open the front of his very blue pants. He's already hard in her hand, and she licks her lips as she looks back up at him, eyes gone devious and evil. "And I've always wanted to do this while you're in the suit." Captain America cannot help but grin.

"I've thought about it plenty too...oh," His words dissolve into the air, as Darcy runs her tongue along the length of his cock, painstakingly slowly at first, and then faster, and faster. His head drops back to rest against the rock, one gloved hand sliding into her hair as that nimble tongue of hers does him in, flicking against his shaft a few more times before wrapping her lips around him, taking him into her mouth slowly.

Steve isn't a small guy, anywhere really, but Darcy's become somewhat of a pro at handling the man, so to speak. Her nails rake up and down his legs through his uniform, making him shiver just before his cock hits the back of her throat. She looks up at him again, through her lashes, and he groans at the sight of her, knowing that look, knowing that she's about to get relentless, and he likes it, Darcy can tell by the way he drags his teeth over his bottom lip.

The hand in her hair tightens just a bit, before Darcy begins moving her head back and forth, taking him almost all the way into her mouth and then out again, and all the while her tongue never stops moving, swirling over him. Distantly, they can hear faint sounds of his teammates talking quietly by the supplies, oblivious yet still close, and the risk of getting caught just has Darcy more tense, aroused, humming against him. She's pretty sure it's got Steve's blood up too, the way he's trying to strangle his own pleasured gasps in his throat.

It doesn't take long for him to get there. Captain America has gone from nearly thirty years of virginity to daily sex for the past few months, at least when they're together. Going a week without, with Darcy right there on a mission with him and in tight leather for most of it, well, the man is a little pent-up. She feels him begin to tense, both of her hands gripping his thighs now, keeping his cock deep in her mouth as he comes, cradling her head in both of his hands.

Swallowing and wiping the corner of her mouth with a prim gesture, Darcy stands slowly, hands sliding up his legs and over his chest as she does. She grins up at him, and Steve's gone languid against the cave wall, like a wound coil that was suddenly allowed to unravel. The grin he gives her is goofy, as she reaches between them and reclasps his belt, fastens his fly. His arms go around her, hands settling low on her back.

"...You're a damn minx," He whispers, dipping his head down to kiss her neck. Darcy squeezes him once, tilting her head back and wriggling a little in his arms.

"And you're going to bed," She informs him, and he chuckles.

"Yes mam...though I can't help noticing," He clears his throat, "You didn't get a turn." Darcy takes a step back from him, taking his hand.

"Yet. Our bedrolls are right next to each other, Cap, and you've got those -really- good fingers," She reaches up with her free hand, tugging down the zipper on her suit barely an inch, winking. Steve can't help laughing, which makes a few people look up just as she tugs him out of the cave and back toward their camp. Ah well.

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	8. Chapter 8

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Smut Prompt:** Strip**

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Technically, it was a successful mission. They'd smashed into the bunker, and destroyed the weapon before it could be used against the public again. It had almost been clean, except that Dr. Heimer had escaped his hideaway through underground means, and resurfaced in a Turkish town on the edge of the desert. In a final act of desperation, he'd held a whole school hostage with explosives, threatening to kill himself and everyone inside unless he was granted immunity, his research returned.

It was rare that Tony and Steve would agree on a course of action, yet this time they had both firmly believed that Heimer was bluffing, and tried to enter the school house. Iron Man and Captain America survived the blast. Most of the people inside didn't.

"No one saw that coming," Fury says evenly, when they're debriefing.

"Bet Coulson would've," Is all Tony can manage to mumble, face unreadable and fixed on the walls, the ceiling, anywhere but another person's face. Steve just sits with his head in his hands.

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Eventually Darcy gets the Cap home, Volstagg running circles around both of them when they come through the door. Steve does manage a smile for the dog, rubbing his belly once before shuffling toward the bathroom. Darcy makes sure the mutt has been fed, hearing the shower go on as she does, before she follows Steve in.

He's standing under the water fully clothed in his uniform, the sand, brick dust and blood running off of him in sooty, rust-colored rivers. Both hands are braced against the wall in front of him, his head bowed and cowl back. Darcy swallows, not saying a word, just unzipping her own suit, toeing off her boots and leaving her clothes in a neat pile beside the door, and then stepping into the shower after him.

She ducks under his arm to stand in front of him, making Steve look up from the sight of her toes, meeting her eyes with a haggard gaze. Darcy takes a deep breath, reaching for his belt, meeting no resistance as she takes it off, tosses it toward her pile of clothes. She pulls off his gloves next, his boots, and begins working on his shirt, unbuckling buckles and straps before tugging it up and off over his head.

By now he's started shaking a little, his breath ragged, and Darcy realizes that some of the water dripping onto her cheeks is warm and salty. Still she knows it's not the time to talk, not yet, and just draws his head down to rest on her shoulder for a long moment, stroking his hair. Then she reaches down, helping him out of the uniform pants, more holsters and straps to get through before he was free.

Her arms wrap around his waist tightly then, shutting her eyes in the stream of hot water. Steve's frame still shudders for a time, before he's pressing his face against her neck, his hands on her skin suddenly clutching hard at her hips, her hair. Darcy tilts her head back, his tongue at her throat, and while it isn't what she would have expected, it somehow makes perfect sense.

He's lifting her then, and sometimes she forgets how strong Steve is, until something like this happens, and he's propping her up against the wall of the shower, fingers digging into her thighs. She gasps, her own hands in his wet hair as he buries his face in her neck again, one hand grasping one of her breasts, thumbing the nipple as he gently bites her neck.

That's about all that's gentle at the moment though, and Darcy finds she's quite all right with that. She's never seen him like this, so completely undone, instinctual, uninhibited. He's still Steve, though, kissing her deep and slow even as he roughly pushes his cock inside of her, making her cry out against his mouth. And then she's biting his lip, hard, he's growling at her, thrusting into her over and over. She knows they'll be a bruises on her lower back from this in the morning, and Darcy doesn't care, flinging her arms over his shoulders and hanging on for dear life.

She comes first, crying out, nails digging into his back, but he doesn't slow at all. Darcy can't stop the helpless, blissful little gasps that keep coming as he fucks her through her orgasm, though it's when she whispers his name in his ear that he finishes, pushing her up hard against the wall. The sound that leaves his throat is deep, sated and wrenching, twisting something in Darcy's chest.

He holds her steady for a long moment, then eases her down carefully, suddenly gentle again, brushing a hand over her wet hair, kissing her slowly. She reaches behind them to shut off the water, and they hold each other's gaze for a time, Steve's eyes steady and still sad, still burdened with what's happened. But he's in there too, again, present, that guy who loves her. Darcy smiles at him, gently, kissing his chest just over his heart.

Then she's stepping out of the shower and grabbing their towels, tossing him one, and he catches it with a small grin. Darcy winces a little as she towels off, aching in places that she loves to ache. "Let's order in something terrible for us and spend the rest of the weekend in bed watching movies." She suggests, and Steve nods, knotting the towel around his waist.

"I like the way you think, Agent Lewis," He murmurs, kissing her yet again, and Darcy just knows he'll be really clingy for the next few days. And she knows he'll go brooding again plenty. But it's just how it is. And at least he's got her, now.

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	9. Chapter 9

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Prompt:** Floats**

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"Darcy you have to fix Cap," Clint tells her one day, about a week after the Heimer incident, "I've tried but I don't speak his language."

"That's because his language is 'Everything Bad Is My Fault And It Makes Me Angry'," Darcy sighed, removing her glasses and standing up from her desk.

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Steve hasn't been so bad with her, though, a little quieter maybe. When it's just the two of them in his apartment, it doesn't seem like much has changed. Maybe they've had more serious conversations, and maybe the sex has been a little more...well, constant. But Darcy's realizing that it's him distracting himself, burying himself in the best part about his life, her. Which hey, there's a compliment.

What she's hearing from everyone else, however, is that Captain America has been a tempest, and short with just about everyone, even Bruce and Thor. He's been destroying punching bags in the gym again, losing his temper over the smallest things. And weirdly enough, he and Tony don't even look each other in the eye. Usually when either of them are in a mood, they're each other's verbal punching bags, but in this case, avoidance is their tactic. Likely because they'd finally agreed on something, and it went to shit.

So while he's been doing an okay job of pretending to be fine at home, Darcy knows better, and for the first time in a few weeks, she joins him in the gym the next morning.

"Darce..." He freezes at the punching bag when he sees her enter, the scowl on his face smoothing away to a weary gaze. "Thought you had work..."

"It's Thanksgiving, Steve," She reminds him, coming up to stand on the other side of the bag, hands on its sides. She's in a dress he hasn't seen her in before, white and a little old fashioned, maybe a little incongruous with her same old coat tossed over her arm. He shakes his head, looking down at his feet.

"Damn, I didn't even..."

"It's all right," Darcy reaches up, standing on her toes in a pair of kitten heels to smooth his hair back from his sweaty brow. "You need a break from this tower, handsome."

"I'm fi-..."

"You are forbidden from saying you're fine," She cuts in, and Steve sighs, before giving her half a smirk. Well, it was something. She took his hand, "Come'on, let's go to the parade. For me." She can play dirty if she needs to, saying the last bit in a soft voice, looking up at him from under her long lashes, and it hits the mark.

"...All right, let me shower."

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Darcy knows Tony and Pepper are somewhere in the crowd that day, honestly she'd kind of stolen Pepper's idea. But while happy, controlled chaos might work for Iron Man (there was even some speculation between certain bored super assassins that he'd be Santa this year), Darcy knew Cap would require a little more work, though he was capable of surprising her. He was just taking all this especially hard, she told herself.

For one, Steve couldn't help grinning through the Broadway numbers. Darcy had staked them out a prime spot near the start of the Parade route, though she did try to stay a few rows of people back, peering through heads, because there were definitely tv cameras out. It was easy for her to go unnoticed perhaps, but Steve sort of always stuck out, even with a knit cap pulled low over his brow. The man was tall. Even now, there was a little girl nearby, sitting on her father's shoulders, who kept glancing his way. Darcy smiled to herself.

"See now," She leans close to him to say, as the applause faded slightly for the last performance, and the floats started to move, "Look how safe and sound, and willing to celebrate your city is, yeah?" Steve raises a brow, "I'm serious, Cap. And not just after May, Heimer had his gun pointing smack dab at NYC when we crashed his party."

"I know," He murmurs, eyes going back to the parade route. By now the little girl has nudged her dad, pointing. Steve is, of course, oblivious. "I can't stop thinking about the school, though...there were kids in there."

"I know," Darcy sighs, "But Steve, seriously, you can't blame yourself for that one. Things go wrong. You still saved Manhattan from becoming a crater. Again." She took his hand in her wooly, gloved one, and he squeezed it, tightly, looking down at his shoes.

On cue, there's a tug on Steve's other hand, and he looks down, blinking. The girl is there, looking about five or six, staring up at him with wide brown eyes under a wool hat that is, Darcy thinks, frankly awesome, covered in dinosaurs. "...Are you Captain America?" She asks, solemnly. Steve blinks.

"Uh yeah, I am," He gives her a slow, genuine smile, and the girl busts out in one herself.

"You're my favorite!" She whispers, and Darcy could've hugged the damn rugrat. Steve, meanwhile, just swallows the lump in his throat. Darcy threads her arm around his waist, hugging him tightly.

"He's my favorite too," Darcy winks, and the little girl giggles, before running back to her dad, who gives them an apologetic grin. Darcy turns her head, nuzzling the sleeve of Steve's coat. "You're doing your job just fine, Cap, you better believe me now," She murmurs, and feels him press a kiss to the top of her head. She doesn't even care that she hears a few flashbulbs go off nearby. She opens her eyes, looking back toward the parade route...

...Just as the FDNY float is going by, and who's dancing like an idiot to some lame pop song right in the midst of a bunch of rowdy firefighters? Yup, there's Iron Man, in the suit, with some fellow heroes. At her side, even Steve's losing it, busting out laughing long and loud.

Well, Darcy supposed, everyone dealt with their angst differently.

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	10. Chapter 10

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Smut Prompt: **Crop**

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"You're sure?" He's asking again, and Darcy just smiles now, looking over her shoulder. Her fingers flex in her uniform gloves, wrists tied together with her belt at the small of her back, and she's bent, not uncomfortably, over the edge of the bed, presently.

"Always sure, Cap," She murmurs, eyes half-lidded under her mess of hair. "I've had my fun with you in -your- uniform," She reminds him, bracing her feet further apart in her least-practical boots, and he can't help chuckling. They aren't SHIELD issue boots at all, unlike her suit, gloves and belt, but Steve -really- enjoys the heels, Darcy pays attention to these things.

"Not quite like this," He notes quietly, although the way he's standing directly behind her, flexing the crop in his hands, shirt sleeves rolled up, Darcy knows he's not really as hesitant about this as he seems. She squirms a little in anticipation, chin resting on the quilt, eyes on the wall. He's always like this when they're in a gaming mood...trying so hard to be the gentleman at first, until he just can't anymore. Honestly, it's really hot.

"I have complete faith in your abilities, Rogers," Darcy licks her lips, arching her back just a bit. The sharp intake of breath behind her makes her bite her lip, and while having her ass in the air in these stiletto boots might not be terribly comfortable, it's worth it just for that sound. She feels one of those big, talented hands of his slide over the leather and nylon of her suit, from her lower back to her thigh, and she swallows hard, biting her lip as she waits, tensed.

The crop comes down with a firm smack across her backside, and Darcy lets out a sharp gasp, grinning wide, and that seems to be the encouragement he needs. She can just picture Steve's face, brows cocked, hoping he hadn't done something wrong, and then in slight awe at the reaction he's gotten. When he whips her again, it's a surer stroke, her hips grinding into the bed a little. The third time she's whimpering, struggling at the belt just a little.

"Good?" He's a little breathless behind her, and Darcy can just imagine how his body's reacting to all her writhing and moaning.

"Good," She grins, "Harder." Almost immediately the crop strikes her ass again, just on her threshold for fun, and she cries out, something between a moan and a plea. Her nerves are on fire all over, from her toes to her lips. She rolls her hips once, and he brings the crop down again, and then again, and when it's his name she moans, Darcy hears the crop hit the floor a second before he's flipping her over.

With her hands still trapped underneath her, Darcy presses her lips together, looking at the man looming over her, his eyes bright and intent on her. Steve braces his hands on either side of her for a moment, studying her flushed and wanton face, his breath heavy. He grins after a bit, reaching down for the zipper just under her chin, tugging it down slowly.

Darcy squirms, unable to help herself. She loves how frustrating it is, how achingly slow he is. Finally she's undone all the way to just below her belly-button, the scars across her torso much more faded these days. Steve's attention is on her neck, though, kissing her throat as a hand slides under the leather, squeezing her tits.

"Tease," She gasps, tugging on the belt holding her hands captive, and Steve just grins.

"Call it revenge," He murmurs, pushing the uniform open further, leaning down and pressing his lips to the center of her chest, and then moving his mouth over one breast, kissing and sucking and taking the nipple between his teeth. Squirming under him all the more, Darcy's breath starts coming in short gasps. Moving to the other breast after he'd drawn out an especially sharp cry, Steve slips a hand down her stomach and under the suit.

Darcy whimpered, shutting her eyes. Revenge was fun.

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	11. Chapter 11

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Smut Prompt:** Helmet**

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As it turns out, New York City (and the country at large) gets LOT of terror threats around Christmas, and not just from various other pissed off, smaller countries with strong feelings about bare female ankles. There were evil geniuses and demented weirdos with death rays as well, and, you know. North Korea, which is pretty much all of those things. So while Darcy had planned to take Steve home with her over Hanukkah, no one was particularly surprised when SHIELD was put on alert over the holidays.

"Are you sure I should even be leaving?" Darcy looked around the offices as she packed up her immediate needs from her desk (glasses, purse, travel mug, photograph of Steve at Yankee Stadium with an entire hotdog shoved in his face). Jane had opened her mouth to reassure her assistant, but Steve had beaten her to the punch.

"Yes," He said, a little too quickly, and Darcy crossed her arms, fixing him with a look. Cap winced, "I just...humor me this once?" He'd tried, with that endearing little pleading smile, "I know you can handle it, but, call it my early Christmas present? One week of not worrying about a nuke dropping on a city you're in?"

"Awwww," Jane had practically melted into a pile of goo at her side. Darcy tried to remain unamused, and failed in the face of Steve Rogers and his adorableness.

"Okay," She conceded, a smile cracking on her face, "But there had better be a Christmas tree up when I get home. A fancy one, it'll be my first and all," She stood on her toes to kiss him goodbye.

"Deal. Tell your family I'm sorry?"

"Like, 'Sorry mom, dad, Isaac, but my boyfriend's busy defending the world FROM TERROR this week'?" She grins, "Don't think they'll mind, handsome."

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And so Darcy had spent a week and a half just outside of Sacramento, with her parents and older brother, answering detailed questions about just how great Captain America and New York is, and far less specific questions about what she now does for a living. There's only so much she can cover up though, as TMZ has plenty of pictures of her and Steve grabbing bagels right outside of Stark Tower.

While saying she works for the government isn't a total lie, nor is saying she spends most of her time doing boring things in a lab for Jane, Darcy does leave out that she -lives- at Stark Tower, that she carries a gun to work that she's actually used, that she almost died a few months ago, and that she's been on an actual Avengers mission, to help take out an evil genius. Really, knowing she's a superhero's girlfriend is enough for her mother to worry about. They've all seen their Batman movies.

Darcy flies back to New York on the 17th, a day earlier than planned, weighed down with presents and a few other things her mother had surprised her with. "Shall I tell Dr. Foster or Captain Rogers that you're home, Agent Lewis?" Jarvis asks, and she's surprised at how welcoming and homey the AI's voice is. This death trap insane asylum has become her home.

"No, thanks, I'm gonna surprise 'em." Darcy grins, hoisting her bags in the elevator. Jarvis sounds just a bit bemused when he replies, and later Darcy will find herself wondering what kind of perv the AI is.

"As you like. The Captain is showering, presently."

"Perfect."

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There's a Christmas tree. Darcy grins wide, pushing off her coat and setting down her bags, eying the dressed up fir. Now, she'd never resented -not- having one, save maybe between the ages of five and twelve, her family did Eight Crazy Nights good and proper, with good and proper presents. She was a Jewish kid who really could brag about presents every day for a week. But damnit, trees are pretty. Menorahs are pretty too, but unless one is REALLY committed, they don't take up a whole corner of the living room.

Stepping closer to the tree, Darcy sees Pepper all over it, and blesses the dear lady for her color scheme in choosing shiny baubles. It looks like a painted postcard from her grandmother's day, complete with real tinsel and old-fashioned wax and tin, hand-painted ornaments from Macy's. In other words, perfect for a man who hasn't had a Christmas since the 40s. Darcy has to laugh when she spots the Angel on the top, though. Total pin-up girl.

The water is still going in the bathroom, and Volstagg-the-Dog is snoring on the couch. Darcy sports an evil grin on her face as she digs about in her duffle for one of her mom's gifts. She's wearing a short little cotton dress in blue tonight, over tights (She abhors flying in pants, it's just dumb), and it happens to go really well with the helmet her mother had found in her grandmother's things.

Sauntering over to the bathroom door, which is slightly ajar, Darcy pauses when she hears a particularly timely low, drawn-out groan. She bites her lip, unable to help herself then, leaning against the door-frame to listen. She had kind of been hoping her ruse would -lead- to some groaning, but hey, Steve's a super-soldier. His stamina is as expected.

Her head drops against the jam as she hears, now that she's closer, the series of short gasps over the splash of water, punctuated now and them by his low, really masculine grunts. She swallows, imagining him in there, as she's seen Steve so many times, wet, naked and so friggin' built. Just listening isn't enough, but Darcy finds she still doesn't want to interrupt. She carefully touches the door, letting it silently swing open a little wider.

His head is bent forward in the spray, a hand braced against the wall and his cock in his hand, pumping furiously. Darcy's lips part, sucking in a breath as she watches him...a week apart is apparently really, reeeeally tough. And damnit, looking at him with water streaming off of those perfect abs, it was a pretty long week for her too. It isn't much longer before his whole frame jerks a little, his brows going up the way they always do right before he comes, knees buckling a little and holy hell, he actually moans out her name.

Darcy really does win at life, she decides, as he tosses his head back, arms going a little limp at his sides. She grins then, setting the helmet on her head and pushing the door all the way open.

"Miss me, Soldier?" She hums, and Steve jumps, slipping a little, and Darcy giggles.

"Where'd you come from?" He sputters, and then winces at himself, grinning, shaking his head and turning off the water. He's blushing, and Darcy stares for a minute, taking him and his dripping muscles in all over again, before answering.

"Came home early," She tips her helmet his way, "Or just in time," He narrows his eyes, smirking, wrapping a towel around his waist before reaching over, tugging her in for a firm, thorough kiss. His skin is hot and damp and Darcy forgets her coy act entirely in favor of wrapping her arms around his shoulders, dipping down and kissing his neck.

"Missed you...where in the world did you get this?" He taps the Captain America helmet, and then does a double-take, realizing how old it actually is, and also how well-preserved. Darcy giggles, taking his hand and tugging him into the main room, grabbing another towel on the way.

"So it turns out," She tells him, as she reaches up and towels off his hair, and he grins at her like a goofy little kid, "That -someone's- ballerina of a great aunt royally pissed off her proper Jewish parents by becoming a chorus girl," She grins, "For Captain America."

"No way," His jaw drops, gobsmacked, and Darcy nods, giddy, hopping back over to her duffle. Steve drops down to sit on the bed, watching her with that goofy look fixed in place. Darcy's heart is doing that floppy, smooshy thing all over again, feeling his eyes on her. She returns to stand in front of him, handing him an old black and white photo.

"That's my grandmother, Emile Bernhardt, and her sister Marie," She points to the little girl wearing the helmet, trying out a wee salute. Next to her, a beautiful girl of around nineteen or twenty is smiling in a long coat, but it's clear by the amount of leg and high heel showing that she's likely got her costume on underneath.

"This looks like New York..." Steve blinks, and Darcy nods.

"They lived here when they first immigrated, gran moved to California when she met her husband," Darcy tilts her head, "Apparently Aunt Marie was with the tour all the way to Italy, you don't remember her do you?"

Steve squints at the picture, thinking, "The girls pretty much stuck to themselves, after they'd realized I wasn't looking their way. Peggy was already on my mind then," He taps the photo, "There was the French girl who didn't speak a lot of English though, I remember now." He gasps, "Yes, that's her! Ugh, had to knock a jerk out in a bar in Milwaukee once for harassing her. Said French girls were all supposed to be easy."

"Yeah! Mom told me that story! Marie apparently swooned over that til the day she died," Darcy laughs, "Oh man, this is the weirdest, sweetest thing."

"Only kind of weird," The contented Captain America shrugs, looking at both girls in the picture, and then back up at Darcy, grinning, handing it back, "The lips run in the family."

"The blue eyes too," She blows him a kiss, leaving the photo on the table and moving to stand in front of him, smoothing his wet hair back with both hands and kissing him slowly. His hands move up over her legs in their tights, up under her skirt, squeezing her backside. The dog huffs a sigh, making them both grin as he lops off the bed. "I missed you too, by the way," She murmurs, nipping his lip softly.

"I dunno, Miss Lewis," He murmurs back, in Cap-voice, "Might have to convince me."

"You always make passes at your dancers, Fella?"

"Shush."

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	12. Chapter 12

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Smut Week: **Fresh Air**

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While Darcy's never been a girl without goals, there are some places she just figured she'd never get around to seeing in her life. Every major US City, certainly. A little bit of Europe, sure, and she was definitely seeing the pyramids before she died. But if someone had told her a year ago that she'd be, say, ringing in the new year in Singapore, on a poolside lounge with a superhero boyfriend on her left and a master assassin/spy on her right, she'd have probably asked how high they were and if they had any to share with the rest of the class.

Granted, they were all still on high alert over the holiday season, but with the helicarrier circling above the island city-state, Tony had justified an excursion. Besides, it was the pacific rim they had to mind these days anyway. They were just staying close to the action. Honest.

"That is counter-productive to getting a tan," Iron Man points out, presently, in the pool with a mai-tai. He's booked them a few floors at the Marina Bay Sands, and some part of Darcy feels like she should be more nervous about sitting by a pool perched a few bazillion feet in the air. Presently, she and Natasha both squint at Tony from under the giant beach umbrella they've been sharing.

"Who said anything about getting a tan?" Nat smirks, "Look at me, Stark. I couldn't tan if I tried. This doesn't mean I can't enjoy the weather."

"Ditto," Darcy sets down her book, yawning, glancing over at Steve who, of course, is golden and just about perfect under the much-closer sun. "Look at this one, though. Doesn't even have to worry about skin cancer." It's true, he's been out in the sun every day since they got here, and apparently his skin cells stop darkening just before actual damage is done. Bitches. "I've got SPF 100 on and I'm still staying in the shade."

"I like you pale," Steve just grins behind his aviators, eyes on his sketchbook. "Tan wouldn't suit either of you gals anyway."

"Tony you might want to slap some of this on though," Nat tosses him a bottle, "That sunburn you're working on will feel like hell in the suit."

"I thought I'd go with a matching shade of red."

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"I'm not one for gambling..." Steve is reminding her from the small balcony, as she tugs on the silk blouse and almost-too-small skirt she'd swiped from Jane. Office-wear, Darcy can manage. The occasional throw-back vintage to get Steve going, easy. But clothes fit for a vacation with sun, sand, and fancy hotel casinos? She hasn't a clue. Thankfully, Jane sported a not-so-secret past as a club girl with a PhD.

"Me neither," Darcy allows, stopping to muss up her hair in the mirror more. The heat here actually wasn't so bad. Tropical heat, which was a whole other beast, somehow made her long, unruly hair look sexy when tousled, instead of frizzy, and the threat of sweating off her makeup seemed minimal, "And even if I was, SHIELD pays well, but not that well." She turns. Well, the skirt managed to just barely cover her ass, so that was a win, "The food down there is amazing though, and the drinks, and it'll be fun to watch Tony lose a few grand to some Japanese businessmen, yeah?"

She can hear him grinning, as she puts on her earrings, "True. All right, you've sold me, Agent Lewis,"

"Excellent," She steps into her shoes and makes her way across the bedroom, onto the balcony looking out over the ocean. The sky is just starting to turn pink with the sunset, the city lighting up below, but Darcy's eyes are all over the man lounging in the deck chair, shoes on the wicker table. Steve's in a pair of dress slacks and a white button-up, sleeves rolled up and the top couple buttons undone in the heat. She licks her upper lip thoughtfully, grinning, as his eyes fix themselves on her sequined skirt. "So uh," Darcy sways a little, arms braced against the glass doors, "Casino?"

"...Later," His voice has dropped, and it makes Darcy's breath hitch, "Get over here."

She moves toward him, and Steve reaches out, catching her hand and pulling her into his lap. "You've gotten good at bein' bossy, Cap," She notes approvingly, straddling his legs. His hands move over her hips, catching on sequins as her fingers slide up his chest.

"I -am- bossy all the time elsewhere," He reminds her, clutching her legs and leaning forward, lips on her neck, smelling just so -good- in the evening heat, "And you don't argue my every other order nearly as much as Tony..." He grins.

"Say that man's name while we're getting it on again, in that voice, and you'll get hit, handsome," She smiles again, and then gasps, one of his hands sliding between her legs. Steve's chuckling against her skin, though he does pause to cast a concerned glance around at their above and below neighbors' patios. Darcy does as well, and he takes the chance to breathe in the heady scent of her hair. The balconies are empty, and even if they weren't, they're pretty shielded from each other. Still, that can mean little to a dedicated photographer, or some weirdo who, you know, likes to listen. "...Someone could pop out any...time..." She shuts her eyes, as the fingers between her thighs resume their movement, tugging her panties to the side.

"Mhmm," Is his only response, pulling her down for a kiss. Oh, this is new as well. Clearly, the tropical air is doing all kinds of fun things for the Cap. Or maybe it's Jane's skirt. Either way, Darcy is a fan of his new found, semi-exhibitionism, rocking her hips against his hand as he keeps stroking, lips hard against hers, almost moving in time with his fingers. Her legs tighten around him, hands going to his belt, stroking the front of his pants until he's biting her lip.

She might hear a door slide open somewhere around them, but Darcy follows his lead in the not caring department, getting his fly open and shifting upward because, really, the public need not be subjected to genitalia. Which is why Darcy's easing herself down onto his cock, obviously. Public decency is everyone's responsibility.

The little gasp that leaves her mouth as she takes him in has Steve tilting forward, grasping her ass hard as she rocks against him, slowly. Darcy's never been so thankful for all her strength training, for once being the one to fuck -him- into the bed, so to speak. For all his former bossiness, Steve's panting into her mouth as she grinds onto him, hips jerking unevenly underneath her. Her hands slide into his hair, scraping his scalp, and he's downright moaning her name back to her.

One of her hands moves from the back of his neck to the hem of his shirt, sliding up under it and over his chest. "Darcy," Steve groans again, hands on her back, pushing up her blouse as well. She grins, lightly pinching a nipple. His hips get in a particularly good thrust at that, and her head falls back, eyes shutting, and he's running his tongue along her throat. She can hear the city below, his pulse under her hand, and holy hell, she's going to come, and if the way those gorgeous blue eyes of his are darkening, he's about to as well.

They've never come together before, and it's a wonderful mess of jerking hips, hands clutching at clothes and hair, and drowning their cries in each others' mouths. Darcy keeps rolling her hips into his, not wanting the sensations to end, and by the way Steve's wrapping his arms around her, crushing her to his chest, she gathers that the feeling is mutual.

They finally pull apart, gulping for breath, Darcy's forehead coming to rest against his. They've gotten sweaty all over each other, she realizes, grinning, and he grins back, expression all sweet and unguarded and that same ol' shy Steve she loves best of all. "You're gorgeous," He breathes, smile gone goofy. Darcy giggles, shaking her head, her voluminous hair.

"And you're a filthy, dirty fella," She grins, easing herself up slowly, groaning a little, which makes his jaw go a little slack. He's quick to zip up his pants, though, and Darcy tugs her hem back down just as swiftly, regaining her balance on her heels. "...Think anyone heard?"

"Nah," Steve tries to look unconcerned, and fails horribly. Darcy laughs again, tugging him into a tight hug.

"Freshen up, and head downstairs?"

"Yes 'mam."

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As it turns out, Steve does end up having to gamble against Tony at the blackjack table, on pain of blackmail. "Oh I've got pictures," Tony cuts in, as soon as Cap tries to protest, waggling his cell phone, and Darcy goes even more pale than usual. Iron Man grins, "Hot ones. That can really easily be sent up to our Pirate Lord hovering over this city."

"You're a jerk." Steve grumbles, not quite covering up his grin, his face as red as the casino carpets.

"Get some," Tony shakes the dice in his hand, "...Oh wait, you just did."

Darcy makes a mental note to have Pepper take -her- some pictures.

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